


A Parfait A Day

by crafti



Series: (Do)n't Feed The Blueberry, Peach [2]
Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: /smacks myself out the door with a broom, Belly Rubs, Chubby Kink, F/M, Feeding Kink, Fluff, I'm sooooorrrrrrrryyyyyy, Mutual Pining, Some Humor, Some Plot, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-06-29 02:12:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15719814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crafti/pseuds/crafti
Summary: Meta Knight is forced to withdraw from the tournament thanks to a broken wing, and Peach has an interesting way to take his mind off the embargo.





	A Parfait A Day

The foyer was a popular place to rendezvous at the Smash Mansion. Here, registered tourney-goers could watch matches on extensive screens, lounge, talk among each other, and even place bets if they so desired. The refreshments table wasn't bad, either. To most Smashers, it was a free haven. A break from all the accustomed chaos.

But not to Meta Knight. To Meta Knight, and his broken wing, the room was more like a detention center. He'd been on a winning streak earlier in the day before he was forced to step down at the hands of a stage hazard and a shuttle loop gone wrong. He hadn't made a scene of it, so it was only after the match when the other Smashers noticed his disconcertingly limp wing and he was all but tossed into the infirmary to get checked out. 

That was seven hours ago. And here he was, still, his good wing folded neatly behind him and the other sticking out awkwardly on a splint and wrapped in copious gauze. He looked a fool, but if it managed to warm his heart when the kids of the Mansion all clambered up to him to write Get Well Soon messages—or rather—doodle Get Well Soon pictures on it, well, nobody had to know.

Meta Knight was proud of his wings, but he was really beginning to miss the comforts of his cape. He had lost count of how many times he had to explain to passersby that the _cape_ didn't turn into his wings, his _wings_ turned into the cape. And with a critically injured wing, said cape couldn't be brought out. They claimed it was weird and confusing, either way.

Needless to say, the situation was frustrating. Meta Knight was itching for one of the two things he was currently barred from - a fight, or a flight. Before he could let his mounting boredom get the best of him and do something he would regret later, Princess Peach waltzed into the room.

"Meta Knight!" She said, spotting him at the far end of the lounge instantly and making her way over a little quicker than she needed to. "I'm so sorry I couldn't catch you earlier. That looks nasty," she winced sympathetically.

"A minor setback," Meta Knight said, trying not to get distracted by the play-back of the intensely close match between Kirby and Dedede on the screen behind Peach. Though Dedede was his friend, too, he felt a little proud that Kirby won. "I could still fight, if they just let me."

Peach put her hands on her hips and quirked an amused smile. "I'm not sure about that. If you get launched, how are you going to get back on the stage with a broken wing?"

"I still have another one. I'll manage."

"What about your cape? As far as I'm aware, you can't teleport without it."

"Who needs that move," he spat. "I don't need that move to win."

Peach almost wanted to laugh. "Oh, Meta Knight, you're acting like a child. There's no shame in taking it easy while you let yourself heal! You're handicapped right now. It wouldn't be fair, right?"

Meta Knight opened his mouth to retort. 

"Against _other_ fighters," Peach added, holding up her hand in attempt to clarify herself. "Think of how they'd feel if—hypothetically—they won..." Meta Knight snorted. "...And you weren't at your best fighting potential? It would be an empty victory. People look forward to fighting you, Meta Knight, because they know you're always on top of your game."

Meta Knight seemed to consider this.

Peach smirked. "Yes, you see? So, for the rest of the day and until I deem fit, I'll be taking care of you. You may call me _Nurse Peach_!"

"Nurse Peach," Meta Knight echoed, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Yes, Nurse Peach! And you're my patient! And I diagnose you with lack-of-food disorder." 

"I believe that's called hunger," he chuckled. 

Despite herself, Peach was glad she got Meta Knight to laugh for the first time in a while. "Yes, well, whatever you wish to call it, it's plain to see that you've been sitting here watching matches all day without having anything to eat. As such, you'll be coming with me for treatment!"

Meta Knight's stomach growled as if on cue, and Peach give him a triumphant, pointed look. He sighed in defeat, slowly slipping down off the sofa. He did suppose anywhere was better than here, especially since the only matches on the screen at this hour were replays. "Where?" 

"Well, since matches are over for the day, the Halberd is free, right? You do have a kitchen, don't you? I can whip up a mean parfait!"

"I do not doubt it," Meta Knight said, his face heating up under his mask as he recalled the flavor of the sweet pastry cream Peach had asked him to taste some nights ago, and the events that followed. Then there was the fudge. Oh, the fudge. "But the Halberd is not the most... comfortable location. I fear it would not befit a lady of nobility such as yourself."

"My, chivalry isn't dead," Peach giggled. "But _you're_ the one with a broken appendage. Besides, I've been put in _cages_ before. I highly doubt _you_ would treat your guests that way."

"Hm. There is a reason I don't often have guests." Peach's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "I am only joking," Meta Knight amended, and Peach wasn't sure, but she could've sworn she heard more chuckling coming from behind that mask. In any case, she'd managed to turn his mood around, and it was a thought that pleased her on a more personal level than she might have expected.

Meta Knight then turned away and began walking off in the opposite direction. 

"...Come," he said, surprisingly airily, and beckoned with his hand when he sensed that Peach hadn't been following him. And who could blame her - communication was not one of Meta Knight's strong points. Peach gleamed in acknowledgment, skipping to catch up and falling into stride beside him as they headed to the stage selector; a very convenient transportation device at the Smash Mansion. 

In a literal flash they were there, and Peach was instantly absorbed in her surrounds. Namely, the giant battleship looming mere feet away. It was currently stationed at its hangar, wings folded and all artillery offline. "Why the fascination? You have been here before," Meta Knight said, his voice echoing through the vast, soundless space as he continued his leisurely gait towards the ship's bulwark. Peach followed behind him. 

"Yes, but not without some sort of impending crisis or raging battle going on. I'm impressed you managed to rebuild everything in such likeness, since, you know... oh, look! That was where that big robot thing attacked us! Well, me." Peach stopped just before they reached the gangway into the ship. "I know it's been a while, but... I still think about it sometimes," she said softly. "And it's not fair, Meta Knight. You helped us all out so much, and all you got in return was a destroyed battleship."

"The reward was the friendships I made along the way," Meta Knight said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. He input some sort of a code into some sort of a control panel, Peach noted, and they resumed their stroll into the ship's interior.

"You pretend you don't mean it, but I know you really do," she laughed delicately, nudging him with her hip, given their height difference. Meta knight offered no response, but he couldn't stop the small, genuine smile that tugged at his lips.

For a warship, Peach thought the interior was rather nice. Very clean, and well-lit considering. The pair began down the porthole-lined passageway of the long hull, the dim light of the setting sun filtering through as they passed elevators, and doors upon doors. Surely the ship would run out of doors soon. How far out of the way was this kitchen, anyway?

"Kitchen?" Peach prompted after some time of nothing but the sounds of their respective footwear clacking and echoing across the steel-reinforced flooring. "Or are you taking me to your _bedroom_ , you suave thing?"

Meta Knight managed to choke on nothing. 

"Ki-Kitchen," he reaffirmed. "That is where you wish to be taken, is it not?"

"Well, yes. But now I'm curious! The great Meta Knight himself having a bedroom... you know, a lot of the other Smashers are convinced you don't even sleep."

Meta Knight thought it would be best not to mention that he did in fact, not sleep. Much, that is. Lest he dwell on the subject of bedrooms any longer, he came to a stop at the next door down the line and pushed it open, allowing Peach to step inside before him. She curtsied in response, and Meta Knight was briefly concerned that the warm, fluttering feeling in his stomach wasn't anything related to being hungry.

The kitchen was sleek, modern, and a very decent size. "This is amazing!" Peach enthused, running her gloved hand back and forth over the smooth, metallic benchtop and looking back at Meta Knight at the door. "Much fancier than the one back at the Mansion!"

"I do have soldiers to feed," Meta Knight replied nonchalantly, flicking on a few more lights, though he was secretly flattered by the compliment. Peach was already helping herself to the stately fridge, picking out ingredients as if she had thought meticulously about it beforehand. And to be fair, she had. Today's treat was undoubtedly parfait, and she was pleased to find that Meta Knight's fridge was stocked with all the right components for it - almost uncannily so. 

"Tell me, Meta Knight," Peach piped, "do you make parfait at all? Because your fridge is telling me that you do."

"Yes," he admitted, not surprised that she had picked it out. "It's my favorite. I am not particularly adept at it, though, past layering a few ingredients in a glass."

"Favorite, you say?" She beamed, the twinkle in her eye familiar to Meta Knight. "Well then, I'm just going to have to treat you to the single most _extravagant_ parfait you've ever laid eyes on! Trust me, you'll be glad you're here and not out training on some battlefield when I'm through with you."

Meta Knight simultaneously loved and dreaded the sound of that. 

No more words were exchanged as Peach laid out all the ingredients and went to work slicing up fresh strawberries. Meta Knight offered to help at some point, citing the fact that he was good with knifes, but she politely declined. Partly because she wanted him to sit back and rest with his wing and all, and partly because she had a strong feeling that he was considering knifes synonymous with swords. 

They really, really weren't. 

Peach laughed to herself softly. Meta Knight was turning out to be very endearing indeed, and not in the "powerful, mysterious fighter" kind of way that she used to think of him. The more time she spent with him, the more his true personality seemed to emerge, and she was pleased to find that he was more normal than he lets on. 

Meta Knight gazed idly at the digital clock on the wall as he waited on one of the bar seats at the kitchen counter. It wasn't even dinner time yet, and he was having dessert. It was true that he'd always favored sweets over any other kind of consumable - but he'd also had enough sense and discipline to wait until _after_ he ate something with nutritional value first. It came as somewhat of a shock to him when he realized he didn't particularly seem to care anymore. He cared even less when Peach was the one to provide it to him. Stars, what had she done to him? 

It wasn't too long before the princess in question turned around with a serving tray in her hands. And on the tray, instead of one, ridiculously plentiful parfait, there were five. _Of course_. Five tall glasses, wider at the rim, each almost overflowing with chocolate ice cream, layers of sliced strawberries, bananas, and whipped cream - all drizzled in thick chocolate syrup. The care and presentation was almost artful. 

"I... hope you are having at least one of those," Meta Knight said. 

"I may have a little taste," Peach grinned. Translation: no, they're all for you, and I can't wait to see you with them all in your stomach. 

"First thing's first, this will need to come off," she said, carefully placing the tray down on the counter in front of Meta Knight before tapping his mask, presumably where his forehead would be. He could very much do it himself, albeit a little begrudgingly, but the eager princess beat him to it. Meta Knight found himself letting go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding the moment the mask was removed from his body. 

"Oof, that feels better..." He groaned softly, trailing off into an abashed mutter. Never in a million years did he think he'd say that.

"I can imagine," Peach purred, gently placing the mask aside. Without it, she could really get a good look at him. "My, you've actually plumped up some, haven't you?"

Meta Knight felt heat rush to his cheeks. He knew he had. But hearing someone say it out loud to him was an entirely new experience. He had thought that maybe, being his body, he was the only one who really noticed any subtle changes. Apparently, said changes were not as subtle as he thought. It had only been a little over a week since he and Peach stumbled into these sessions, but there was no denying that he had already become softer, and thicker all over. It was little wonder his mask was getting tight.

"May I?" Peach asked, and though he had his suspicions, Meta Knight didn't have enough time to ask what she meant exactly before he felt her hands on his pudgy, blue body. Her fingers sank in just a little more than she expected, the revelation pleasing her immensely. Meta knight averted his eyes, his pink cheek-marks darkening in color.

"Aww, don't be embarrassed," she cooed. "I happen to think the extra fluff looks very charming on you."

"I am not... embarrassed," he half-lied. "It is just... different."

"Well, don't you worry. That cute face is still your best feature," she winked. "Are you sure you and Kirby aren't—"

"Let us not start with that."

"Right, right! There are more pressing matters to attend to... like filling up this poor empty belly of yours," she said, giving him a little squeeze for good measure. Red as his face was, Meta Knight had no objections. Peach produced a dessert spoon from the kitchen drawer and wasted no time taking up the spot beside him on the next seat over. "I'm allowed to feed you, aren't I?"

Meta Knight found it almost humorous that she had even bothered to ask this time, considering that his first experience with Peach's inclination to feed him had more or less involved her piping cream down his throat like he was one of her prized pastries. He felt like one, too, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed it on some debase level - as surprised in himself as he still was. 

Hoping the gesture sufficiently answered Peach's question, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth. It certainly did, as Meta Knight soon found his mouth filled with the sweet, soft ice cream and fruit, shivering from the cold and the pleasure it brought as it went down thickly. He hummed deep in his chest, the sound gratifying to Peach's ears. He had to admit, this was just what he needed.

Pleased by his keenness, Peach continued to feed him heaping spoonfuls of the dessert until the first glass had been thoroughly emptied. Meta Knight's tongue darted along his bottom lip, effectively cleaning up any ice cream that may have failed to enter his eager mouth before. "You certainly made short work of that," Peach commented fondly, pushing the empty glass to the side and taking the next one from the tray into her hand. 

"More?" She grinned knowingly, giving Meta Knight's belly a quick warm-up rub.

"Please," he smoothly rumbled in reply. They both knew he was well past the base level of satisfaction that a comfortably full stomach brought. At this point, it wasn't even that he _could_ keep going, it was more that he _needed_ to keep going. 

Peach kept one hand resting idly on Meta Knight's belly while the other spooned him mouthfuls after mouthfuls of the second parfait. It wasn't too long until she felt him begin to swell. The layer of thick pudge that had recently settled around his spherical form became tauter as he slowly swelled in size, her fingers spreading further apart the bigger he became. Peach was delighted to find that his occasional, soft noises of approval only became more fervent as he filled out.

It was only towards the end of the third parfait that Meta Knight started showing signs of discomfort. Perhaps, if it was anything _other_ than parfait, he would have had enough common sense to stop at three. And while Peach secretly enjoyed the sight of him squirming a little in a vain attempt to get his ever-growing body more comfortable, she decided it was time to work her magic. 

She pressed her warm hands to Meta Knight's bloated, ice cream-filled belly, massaging the increasingly sensitive flesh in slow circles. He shuddered involuntarily, the sudden contrast between temperatures almost overwhelming to him. "Ah, that's... very..." He groaned, words and thoughts beginning to elude him. "K-Keep doing that, please..."

"Mmm, you don't have to tell me twice," Peach purred, very pleased with his reaction. "You're getting so big already, Meta Knight. I may have to start measuring you, so we can have records to break."

Meta Knight could only give a languid moan in reply. Stars, he liked the sound of that.

"It could take weeks for your wing to heal... we could do this more often, to keep your mind off the tournament. Can you imagine, Meta Knight? You, rejoining the tournament once your wing heals, and coming back twice your size... my, wouldn't everyone be surprised?"

Meta Knight wasn't sure if Peach was being serious, or if she was just trying to spur him on with a depraved fantasy. Either way, it was working. 

Peach scooped out a generous serve of the fourth parfait, making sure to include every component, and brought it to Meta Knight's slack, panting mouth. She rubbed him while she fed him, and Meta Knight couldn't stop himself from moaning through the bountiful mouthful of heavenly sweet parfait, wondering with half-lidded eyes when he had become such a glutton. 

Peach looked on in delight as Meta Knight continued to gorge himself at her whim, his round body positively ballooning with his favorite treat. The slight creaking of his chair told Peach that he was duly becoming heavier, too. She could feel how dense and full he was when she rubbed him, her fingers not sinking in the way they did when the plump knight was empty.

Four down, one to go. "Still holding up, big boy?" Peach said, giving his engorged belly a few pats. 

Meta Knight blushed at the last two words that left her lips. Well, he always did wish he was taller. "That depends on your... ughn... definition of 'holding up'. I am... so full..."

Peach smirked. "Then, how about this: do you feel _good_?"

" _Yes_..."

"Good, because..." She slid the fourth empty parfait glass away at the same time as she pulled the fifth, last one closer. "You've much yet to eat," she said, putting on a deep voice in a mimicry of one of his famous quotes, though the grin in her tone was hard to miss.

"Oooh, stars above," Meta Knight groaned groggily, "don't tease me..." 

Ice cream dribbled down the side of Meta Knight's mouth as Peach heartily topped him up again, his cheeks bulging with it. His droopy, dazed eyes were furrowed as he tentatively swallowed the first spoonful of the last parfait, round body so completely brimful with the dessert that he almost couldn't breathe. He knew he must've looked an undignified mess, and as adorable as the rare sight was to Peach, she knew that everyone had their limits. And truthfully, Meta Knight should have passed his a while ago. There was only so much belly rubs could do until she'd have to get some Alka-Seltzer up in here. Nurse Peach, indeed.

"It's okay if you can't finish it all, Meta Knight," she noted sweetly, withdrawing the spoon a little.

The thought was there, but it just so happened that Meta Knight really didn't like the word "can't", and he'd heard it quite enough today.

And so he proceeded to do something that Peach hadn't expected - though, with Meta Knight being Meta Knight, she probably should have. He took the parfait glass from her hand, brought it up to his mouth, and positively _downed_ it. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly as he willed himself to heavily gulp down each mouthful of the velvety, decadent dessert he was currently full of. So, _so_ full of, and still somehow wishing he was _fuller_.

Peach watched on in utter astonishment, wide eyes fixated on his profound roundness as it seemed to bloat up a little more with every mouthful he swallowed. 

Meta Knight drawled a low and hoarse groan once the last of it was finally down his gullet, all but slamming the empty glass back down onto the counter. He panted heavily, slowly creaking one glowing, yellow eye half-open.

"Oh, Meta Knight," Peach laughed sympathetically, both her hands coming to massage his phenomenally swollen, overfilled belly in soothing circles. "You certainly don't have a reputation for nothing. Goodness... you're huge," she said, enthralled with the way his body managed to expand even more under her hands along to his leaden breathing. 

Meta Knight didn't even attempt to stifle the breathless whimpers and groggy, rumbling groans that rolled off his tongue at the mercy of Peach's attentive touch. Stars, she was right. He'd never felt so big, so thoroughly filled, so completely and utterly _satisfied_. He shivered as he thought about the weight he would surely gain over the course of his recovery, only snowballing from here. And maybe it was the five parfaits talking, but he was beginning to think that getting kicked out from the tournament with a broken wing wasn't going to be such a punishment after all.

This was, perhaps, Peach's favorite part as well. Feeling and admiring her handiwork, and listening to his sighs of gratification in response... Peach wantonly bit her lip. Meta Knight was truly a sight to behold. She'd only wished they had moved it to somewhere a little more cozy earlier on—like his mythical bedroom—because she knew he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. In fact, scratch that - she was the very _reason_ he could barely move right now, and the notion was elating, indeed. She couldn't fix his broken wing, but she could nurture him through his belly and the sweet delights he so adored.

In any case, Peach was so engrossed in running her doting hands over the big, blubbery ball of a knight that she almost didn't notice the colorful scribbles on his bandaged wing.

"Wait, what's this?" 

"Ughnn... what?"

"On your wing. These drawings."

"The kids," Meta Knight simply said, his accent slurring and voice a little raspy, not particularly eager for conversation when he felt like an overstuffed plushy - and honestly looked like one, too.

"Meta Knight, have you... have you actually _seen_ what they've drawn on here?" She said, a light blush on her cheeks. 

"Huh?"

It took some effort, but Meta Knight leaned forward as best he could with his bloated, roly-poly body and squinted as he tried to make out the drawings on his wing through the reflection of the metallic fridge nearby. The one Peach was pointing at in particular appeared to be a crudely colored doodle of a literal blueberry and a peach, holding hands with their stick-figure limbs. Oddly enough, the blueberry was bigger than the peach.

"Huh." He grunted, leaning back again, more out of breath than he wanted to admit. "Cryptic..."

And though Peach was personally delighted with the picture, she couldn't help but laugh at the connection that Meta Knight didn't _quite_ seem to make. 

**Author's Note:**

> HI IT'S ME AGAIN WITH MY OBSCURE BORB FEEDING FICS I DO APOLOGIZE. But I was very pleasantly surprised by the response my last fic got, so I felt inspirited enough to write a little something else since then. :']
> 
> I had the premise of the story down (essentially: MK GET HURT. FEED MK. YES GOOD.) but I didn't know what universe or character to use (again), so, welp, it's Smash Bros and Peach again. A sequel, if you will. I will admit I've become a bit of a genuine fan of the pair though, and I will gratuitously place all the blame on the fact that I was re-playing Sm4sh in hype for Ultimate and came across the event match "Unwavering Chivalry" - you know, the one where you play as Meta Knight and have to NOT defeat Peach or Zelda in order to win - because "a true knight never raises his sword against a lady"? ...Yeah. That was just kinda cute to me and it is now my excuse. (Maybe not a GOOD one, but...)
> 
> It may also be worth noting that personality-wise, my Peach is more or less based off her Paper Mario iteration, because she's an absolute legend in those games. Meta Knight is just... Meta Knight. Bless him.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
